


something in return

by freidynne



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, M/M, Pining, Relationship Advice, achilles is wing-manning whilst being sad about his own relationship, thanatos is pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freidynne/pseuds/freidynne
Summary: It took the death of his beloved for Achilles to realize that he is not without fear. It takes solitude in the afterlife for him to learn that this is not necessarily a bad thing. Now it's Thanatos' turn to learn the same.
Relationships: Achilles & Thanatos (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 125





	something in return

**Author's Note:**

> Achilles and Meg’s friendship is super cute so I figured an Achilles and Than friendship would be fun to explore too. Some lines are lifted from the game, so beware of spoilers.
> 
> Special thanks to miko for the beta and encouragement! ♡

It is when Zagreus hands him the third bottle of nectar that Thanatos begins to wonder.

At first, it seemed like a simple peace offering — Thanatos admitted that he was hurt thus, it was only natural for Zagreus to make amends with an apology and a present. Thanatos gave him a small keepsake in return, a parting gift that was originally meant to be a homecoming surprise. At least, they were even, and if Zagreus eventually made his way to the surface, they would both have something to remember each other by.

The second bottle was unnecessary. Perhaps, Zagreus wanted to make sure his regrets were made clear. Perhaps, he sincerely felt guilty. His motivation should not matter much, Thanatos said to himself, promptly accepting the gift even though he thought it would do nothing to mend their friendship. He told Zagreus as much.

“Don't think anything of it,” the prince said with a shrug.

And so Thanatos willed himself to think nothing of it. That is, until Zagreus purposefully sought him at the West Wing balcony to hand over a third bottle of nectar and to point out that _No, it's not an empty gesture, Than_. Then he was off, flame-licked feet dashing to make his way out of Tartarus, away from Thanatos' reach yet again.

It's for this reason that Thanatos finds himself hovering towards the lounge, still covered in fur and scratches from when Cerberus first learned of Zagreus' departure. The shades do not seem to mind the mess, however, as they continue to mill about and occupy every inch of space in the room.

Thanatos fiddles with the fancy ribbon tied around the nectar bottle. It's still a mystery where Zagreus procures these extravagant presents, and a bigger mystery why he keeps on giving it to him. Perhaps, it's his attempt at saying sorry. Perhaps, it's his way to make himself feel better.

He pulls away from his thoughts, distracted with the indistinct chatter of shades and wretches, to his own dour portrait… servant board, to the crammed booth in the corner.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

In the middle of deliberating whether he should trade the gift off to the Wretched Broker or not, he sees someone beckon him with a wave.

His eyes land on the forgotten hero that stands guard between the Master's quarters and the administrative chamber.

Zagreus' trainer.

“Shade,” Thanatos says in acknowledgement, grateful for a temporary distraction. The gossiping souls part to let him pass, but not before throwing him curious stares and unnerving grins.

Zagreus' mentor — Achilles, Thanatos reminds himself — bows his head in greeting. Although he appears to be alone, the table before him is crowded with nectar bottles identical to the one Thanatos has just received from his friend. A half-empty goblet stands proudly among the spread. Thanatos frowns. “Have I been gone for too long and missed the Master's decree allowing blatant consumption of contraband?”

“No such decree exists, my lord,” the shade admits with no hint of guilt. He motions to the drink in Thanatos' hand. “As servants of the House, it is our duty to dispose of it immediately, is it not?”

Thanatos hovers by the chair across Achilles but does not sit. “Such dedication even when off-duty. Though I scarcely think the task requires much sacrifice.”

“It does not,” the shade agrees with a smile, pouring more nectar into his goblet with practiced ease. “At best, we can allow ourselves some indulgence and let the liquid wash our sorrows away. At worst, we can get drunk.”

Thanatos raises an eyebrow at Achilles' casual speech. To his knowledge, the shade shares an easy camaraderie with the prince despite their difference in station. He even saw Megaera sharing a drink with him once. Thanatos is not Zagreus, nor is he Megaera. He grips his scythe, already picturing a gloomy corner in Asphodel where he could decipher the meaning of Zag's gift in peace.

“Drinks are always best enjoyed with company, my lord,” Achilles says, accurately reading his body language.

“Don't be presumptuous. I am just… on my way to dispose of it too. Properly.”

Ignoring his pointed remark, Achilles motions at the empty seat. “I ask that you join me, then.”

The shade must have drank a fair amount of nectar to be this brazen, Thanatos thinks. Ah. But he is Achilles — he had been brazen in life; why would he not be brazen in death? Despite himself, Thanatos takes the offer and uncorks the bottle in his hands, pours the sparkling alcohol into his cup. Achilles tips his goblet in approval before taking a swig.

For someone who insisted on company, the shade does not attempt to hold further conversation, instead shifting his focus on diligently getting rid of the nectar and staring wistfully into space. Thanatos clasps his hands and deliberates if he should sip the liquor or empty its contents in one drink.

“From whom did you confiscate such a huge supply of contraband, anyway?” he asks finally, genuinely curious and just a little too ill at ease with the unfamiliar company.

“A token from the prince,” the shade responds.

Somewhere in the crowded lounge, glasses clink. Dusa hums. Something in Thanatos’ stomach drops.

Don't think anything of it, Zagreus had said, and yet Thanatos went ahead and assumed the offering held a special meaning of some sort. Of course, friendly, outgoing Zag would distribute lavish gifts to anyone and everyone in the House. It's Thanatos' own fault for coming up with silly expectations and scenarios in his head.

“I was surprised when the lad handed one to me the first time but, as it turns out, a number of stray bottles have found its way in the realm,” Achilles continues, unaware of the war raging in Thanatos' heart. “I wager that bottle is from him too?”

Thanatos carefully schools his expression to that of disinterest. “Indeed.”

“Ah, that may be why you are reluctant for it to join the rest of the Master's liquor supply. There is no telling as to how long we can still enjoy the Prince's generosity.”

Thanatos crosses his arms, refusing to linger on the implications of the statement. “Do not presume to understand my intentions,” he warns yet again. “I would dispose of nectar using this method, regardless of who it is from.”

Achilles regards him with a look that makes Thanatos feel like the shade knows something that he does not. Before he could question it, however, Achilles drops the topic and raises his goblet for a toast. “To Prince Zagreus, then. May his endeavors ensure the Underworld remains free from Olympus-bound contraband.”

Thanatos clinks their drinks in response, thankful for the change in subject. The nectar is predictably sweet on the tongue, yet, as the liquid slides down his throat, Thanatos cannot help but linger on the bitterness in his heart.

  
  
  


“You are aiding him, shade,” Thanatos accuses as he sets a nectar bottle down the new serpentine table with a thud.

He does not know how long it has been since he first shared a drink with Zagreus' trainer, but he knows that it had been a considerable amount of time, if the freshly-upholstered cushions and seats in the lounge were any indication. Thanatos does not know how many gifts Zagreus has handed to him either, yet he is relieved to find Achilles disposing of a similar bottle. If he continued to show the same kindness to everyone then, it is safe to say that Thanatos need not attach complicated feelings to the act as he had mistakenly done in the past, right?

Achilles indulges in the nectar he most definitely acquired from a certain fire-stepping prince before acknowledging him. Unlike their first encounter, the shade has chosen to forego the goblet and is now drinking straight from the bottle.

“I am,” Achilles says simply. At Thanatos' frown, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand with as much grace as to be expected from the best of the Greeks. “I care about the Prince, my lord. If he believes that reaching the surface will give him the answers that he seeks then, I will support him.”

“He belongs here,” Thanatos replies almost immediately. It's the same phrase he repeats to himself whenever his mind wanders off to Zagreus. It sounds like a selfish argument when spoken aloud.

The shade does not warrant him with an answer so Thanatos busies himself with taking delicate sips from Zagreus' most recent peace offering. He supposes that he could have consumed the drink in a secluded glade in Elysium, away from the prying eyes of judgmental shades and mentors, but it seems that he is quite prone to acting out of impulse more often these days. Or nights.

Achilles regards him with a thoughtful look. “Suppose you can ensure the Prince's happiness for the rest of eternity, would you not do whatever is in your capacity to make sure he acquires it?”

Thanatos mulls over the question in his head, swirls the nectar in his mouth.

“Zagreus is my friend. I do not claim to understand the reasons behind his actions. But yes, I would do what I can to help.”

“Even if doing so may mean that you may never see him again?"

"What are you insinuating?”

“Forgive me, my lord. I may be a little distracted,” Achilles says before taking a deep breath and fixing his eyes on a particularly uninteresting basket of stale bread by the bar.

Thanatos decides to do the same, his eyes landing on the old house servant board adorning the entrance of the lounge. Megaera's portrait stares menacingly back at him. He loses his patience when Achilles sighs for the fourth time. “Speak what is on your mind.”

“I'm afraid it's beneath your concern, O Death.”

“That is for me to decide.”

The shade opens his mouth to refute, then closes it almost immediately. After a moment of deliberation and a couple more sighs, he says, “Prince Zagreus has made new friends while ransacking the Master's territory. One of whom happens to be someone I knew in life. Loved in life, actually. Anyway, hearing about him from the lad, well. It puts to mind memories from my mortal life. It makes me wonder how things could have gone if I had acted differently.”

“You must be talking about Patroclus,” Thanatos remarks. Achilles drops the nectar bottle at the mention of the name, splashing sticky liquid on the table and on his clothes. Thanatos takes pity on the shade and answers his unspoken question. “Your legend has been sung on the surface and in Elysium enough times for me to know of him.”

“Ah. The legends, huh? You must know, then, how foolish I had been in life.”

Thanatos observes the shade before him, somber and dejected even after consuming premium vintage usually reserved to the gods.

“It is pointless to focus on things that already came to pass. The Fates will not change their design no matter how much we try to understand it,” he says carefully, echoing his mother’s words when he first confronted her about Zagreus. He is not familiar with the details of Achilles' predicament but he has heard whispers of his tale passed among mortals and the exalted. He knows of his glory and his loss. Even so, Achilles has been serving the House for a considerable amount of time now. Surely, he knows that his days on the surface are not as significant as the eternal existence in the afterlife. It is not until he sees the obvious distraught in the shade's face that Thanatos realizes that he may have spoken callously. “Of course, I am no mortal. I claim no understanding of the workings of your heart,” he adds in haste.

“Aye, I thought as much. I do not think I can face that shade again, you see. Still, there are times when I wish I could be with him.”

“What is preventing you, then? Knowing Zagreus, he would be more than happy to help.”

The shade laughs. “Oh, I know. He offered as much. But I made a pact with the Master. And you know how pacts work in this domain. I think the bargain is worth the sacrifice, at least.”

“Yet you desire something else,” Thanatos says before he can stop himself. Not for the first time, he wishes he could be as eloquent and tactful as Zagreus. He has heard about the pact too, and scoffed at the details of the bargain. It is not unusual for shades to demand that they spend eternity with the people they loved in life. But Achilles agreed to do the exact opposite.

“What we desire and what we must do for the good of those we care about are not always the same, sadly. I am sure you understand,” Achilles says.

They spend the time in silent contemplation, with the static din of the lounge and Dusa's distant singing their only sources of distraction. Achilles drains the last of his drink and waits for Thanatos to finish his own before speaking. “If I may be presumptuous again, my lord?”

“What is it?”

“A piece of advice from someone who has far too many missed opportunities in the past: be more honest with yourself.”

“I'm not sure I follow.”

“You've been aiding him too,” Achilles says, holding his gaze. “We do not know when the Prince will reach the surface. Even if he somehow returns someday, wouldn't it be nice if we do what we can at the moment to avoid a future full of regrets?”

Thanatos purses his lips, unsure how to respond. Part of him wants to find Zagreus and confront him for revealing their secret. Another part of him wants to disappear into thin air. For some reason, he finds more comfort in Megaera's scowling portrait than the look of concern in Achilles' eyes.

“Often, we get too caught up in grievances that make us lose sight of what we already have. What we really cherish. There is no way for me to confirm the veracity of the stories you've heard, but I am certain they do not cover the regrets that came after.” As if only remembering who he is speaking to, Achilles puts a hand over his chest and bows. “Forgive my lack of respect, my lord. Surely, my words and experiences do not amount to the infinite extent of yours. But please, think about what I said.”

And with that, the shade stands and excuses himself to resume his shift, leaving Thanatos to his thoughts.

  
  
  


Zagreus is getting closer to the surface. Thanatos knows it, sees Zag's progress whenever they have their little contests, marvels at the improvement he has shown in so little time. Every time Zagreus wins, the dread in Thanatos' stomach grows. It was easier to believe he would stay when escaping seemed impossible. In moments of weakness, Thanatos catches himself hoping that would be the case. Yet, he still comes to Zagreus' aid. Yet, he still makes time for him.

The gifts have become fancier over time too. After Thanatos handed Mort over, Zagreus took it upon himself to pile him with more presents. Thanatos' mask of indifference almost always crumbles when Zag lavishes him with another bottle of ambrosia ( _"It's because I like you, Thanatos,"_ he reasons, as if that is reason enough). By now, Thanatos knows the generosity is not exclusively bestowed upon him, yet his heart still soars at the offering, so much so that he almost offers an answer in return. Almost.

But Thanatos refrains, as always, because doing so means admitting to feelings that he himself has not yet come to terms with. Next time, he tells himself. Next time he won't hold back. This time, he allows himself to selfishly hope that Zagreus does not escape just yet.

  
  
  


“Where is the shade?” he whispers just loud enough to rouse his brother from sleep.

“Oh! Oh hello, Thanatos. I missed you too,” Hypnos greets cheerfully in return, but not before floundering with his scroll and scattering parchment all over the place. Thanatos sighs and resists the urge to help pick the mess up. Once everything is in order, Hypnos says, “You have to be more specific, though. Why, if I knew all the shades in the underworld by name then I wouldn't have to keep a list.”

Thanatos crosses his arms. “The shade that stands guard in that hallway. Where is he?”

“Ah, you must be talking about Achilles. He was released, didn't you know?”

“Why? Did he cause any trouble?” Did the Master catch the shade holding on to forbidden nectar right under his nose? Or maybe it’s worse. What if the Master found out that he was aiding Zagreus?

Hypnos stretches in an effort to stay awake. “Nah, just some restrictions being lifted. He is in Elysium at the moment. He'll be back in time for his next shift.”

Thanatos' eyebrows lift in surprise. So after all the talk about choosing between going after desires and doing the right thing, the shade went ahead and did as he pleased. Thanatos feels betrayed, somehow. He turns to Hypnos to ask for more details but finds his twin already dozing off. Oh, well.

He does not need to wait for answers, however, because Zagreus emerges from the Styx right on cue, bloodstained face lighting up as soon as his eyes fall on him.

“Than!” he exclaims almost immediately.

Thanatos briefly notes the Master's empty seat before inclining his head in greeting. “You're back.”

“I am,” Zagreus smiles despite his obvious failure. “I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

“I happened to be in the area,” Thanatos says, the explanation sounding rather lame even to his ears. When he sees Zagreus reaching for his supply of bounties — for another bottle of ambrosia, most definitely — Thanatos scrambles to change the subject. “Your trainer's been absent from his post. You voided his pact with Lord Hades, didn't you? I don't know how you did it.”

Zagreus drops his hand and frowns. “You know he's more than my trainer, Than. As for how I did it, turns out being the first and only son of Hades has its privileges. Now Achilles gets to be with someone he loves. Who loves him back.”

Thanatos is not sure if he imagined the bitterness in Zagreus' voice. “Love is common among mortals,” he says instead. “Is theirs really so special as to be worth the trouble?”

“It is,” Zag replies with no hesitation. “Anything is worth the trouble if you believe it is, Than.”

“You always make things sound so simple.”

Zagreus shrugs. “No need to make things more complicated than they already are. Say, Than, about our last conversation—”

_It's because I like you, Thanatos._

“I have to go,” Thanatos interrupts because Zagreus is reaching for the bottle of nectar again and Hypnos is awake and the shades' murmurs from behind them are suddenly too loud and Thanatos is not ready for another gift and this conversation just yet. “Until next time, Zagreus. Hypnos.”

“Oh, ok.” Zagreus' hand drops to his side for the second time, a look of disappointment plastered clearly on his face. It is the last thing Thanatos sees before he shifts away.

  
  
  


“I haven't seen you in this area for quite some time,” Thanatos says by way of greeting, settling himself on the seat before the shade.

“Lord Thanatos. Indeed, it has been a while.” Achilles instinctively rearranges the empty bottles on the table to give Death more space and pushes an unopened flask to his direction. “Please help yourself.”

Thanatos accepts, noting that the offering is not the usual drink procured from the prince but rather the dry liquor regularly available in the lounge. “No nectar this time?”

“None. I have long since exhausted the stash supplied by the lad,” Achilles explains. Then, a smile. “Even if I had some, I won't be disposing of it here any longer.”

“It's because of the shade in Elysium, isn't it?” Thanatos asks before he can stop himself. At Achilles' look of surprise, he adds, “I heard about it in your absence. I apologize for prying.”

Achilles nods in understanding. “There is no need to apologize. If I may. You don't have any vintage with you either.”

“Well. I haven't seen Zagreus in a while either.”

“You are avoiding him.”

It is as much a statement as it is a question. Thanatos searches his mind for a good reason to deny the claim but finds none. “I just need time to figure things out by myself.”

“And have you figured things out?” Achilles asks.

“Not really. No,” Thanatos admits, because it is the truth.

Achilles nods again but pushes the subject no further, leaving Thanatos to his thoughts. The lounge is livelier than the last time they shared a drink together, with more shades coming and going to share drinks and gossip, a renovated and well-stocked kitchenette, and a newly-installed fire pit. All Zagreus' doing. Thanatos shakes his head and turns his attention back to Achilles, who, despite the subpar drink, has never looked more content than ever. His smile is bigger, more genuine. He's happier.

Thanatos breaks the silence. “I have a question for you, shade. Achilles. The last time we spoke, you said that what we want to do and what we need to do are not always the same. Why did you pursue what you desire then, knowing that it goes against the pact you’ve made?”

“The mortal heart turns out to be selfish even in death, my lord,” Achilles says after a moment. “For as long as I have been here, I had been certain there was only one way to secure the happiness of my beloved. So sure and stubborn and short-sighted was I that I did not even consider if the choice would really make him happy. I did not even consider the alternative presented by Zagreus. In the end, the only one holding me back was myself. I know I advised you to be more honest with yourself. It seems I needed to tell myself the same thing.”

Achilles swirls the contents of his goblet. For a while, he watches Dusa happily dusting the bat cage Zagreus recently commissioned from the House Contractor.

“It took the death of Patroclus for me to realize that I am, in fact, not without fear. It took a lot more prodding from the Prince for me to learn that while fear is for the weak, it is not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes fear can compel us to chase after what we truly want.”

“Bypassing the Master's orders. Was it worth the trouble?”

A rueful smile. “I've never been more afraid. I was not sure if the lad would succeed. I was not sure if Lord Hades would turn a blind eye. I was not sure if Patroclus would forgive me. I was not sure of many things. But the prospect of having another regret far outweighed my fear of failure. It is another chance at love, you see. Success or not, I thought it was well worth pursuing.”

They are both held back by fear, Thanatos realizes. But while Achilles has somehow overcome his apprehensions, Thanatos has allowed himself to be chained with indecisions.

Indeed, he is afraid of many things, but in this moment he realizes what he is most afraid of: It's not losing Zagreus to the surface. Surprisingly, it's not loving Zagreus as he once thought either. It's losing Zagreus before he gets the chance to love him.

To let him know outright how he feels.

Thanatos marvels at the simplicity of it all.

He is in love and he needs to let Zagreus know! Now that he knows the cause of his predicament, perhaps he has a chance to remedy it yet. Emboldened by this realization, Thanatos stands up knowing exactly what he should do.

The shade tilts his head thoughtfully, golden curls gracefully tumbling over his shoulders as he does so. They have only spent time together just recently, but now Thanatos understands why Zagreus and Megaera have developed a special fondness for him.

“I… thank you for everything, Achilles.”

Achilles smiles. “I am glad to be of help.”

  
  
  


The current state of the House of Hades is quite different from the image in Thanatos' memories. The structure itself remains the same — imposing gem-encrusted pillars, crimson draperies, and gold-embellished floors. Old and quaint. Familiar. But there is also something that is novel about it now, like a patch of winter-covered earth slowly reacquainting itself to the warmth of spring.

The lounge has gotten even rowdier than before, with Zagreus installing a skull-shaped prism that reflects light the way the sun's rays bounce off the snowflakes on the surface. Thanatos thought it gaudy the first time he saw it but Zag and the wistful shades seem to enjoy the ambience it provides.

The featured house servant board got a makeover as well, with no less than the recently-returned Queen overseeing its decorations. Currently, the framed portrait of Achilles hangs proudly on the wall, which reminds Thanatos why he is in the lounge in the first place.

He fishes out a pouch full of diamonds from his robes and offers its contents to the shrewd broker stationed to guard the Master’s resources. “Your finest stock of ambrosia, please.”

The wretched broker eyes his currencies with suspicion — Death rarely deals with confiscated items, after all — and Thanatos hovers awkwardly in place as the sedentary shade examines the gems on the counter. He idly wonders if he should have procured the prize from Theseus instead then remembers that he cannot stand the noise at the stadium.

Satisfied with the authenticity of the diamonds, the broker eventually gives him a big grin and a sparkling bottle of ambrosia in return. Vintage secured and scythe at the ready, Thanatos pictures his destination and promptly shifts towards its location, a distant toll and a brief glow of green following his trail.

  
  
  


They are huddled close in a secluded area in Elysium, just as Zagreus said they would be. At his arrival, Achilles rises from the ground and gracefully bows in greeting. His partner mimics the salutation, but not before throwing an inquisitive glance at his companion.

“Hail, O Death,” Achilles says, smoothing the crumpled fabric of his robes as he stands. Without missing a beat, he gestures to the shade beside him. “Lord Thanatos, I would like you to meet Patroclus. Patroclus, this is Lord Thanatos.”

“Nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you from Achilles.”

“And I, you.”

Patroclus throws him a knowing smile. “If you are looking for the stranger, I'm afraid he has not graced us with his presence yet.”

It takes a moment for the comment to register but when it does, Thanatos shakes his head. “I am not here for Zagreus.”

“Oh? To what do we owe this honor, then?” Patroclus asks, his tone not unkind.

Thanatos hovers above the ground in uncertainty, the verdant blades of the Elysian field tickling his toes. Achilles regards him with curiosity. No use in hesitating now, Thanatos decides. He reaches for the ambrosia hidden under the folds of his chiton and presents it to the lovers before him.

“A gift to show my gratitude,” he quickly explains, suddenly finding the ethereal waters of the Lethe quite interesting.

“You shouldn't have, my lord,” Achilles stammers. He accepts the bottle nonetheless.

“It is the least I can do for you, good shade,” Thanatos says. “Your words. It led me to admit things I have been denying even to myself. Zagreus and I… we're in better terms now.”

“I am glad everything worked out in the end,” Achilles says while Patroclus rummages through the trinkets scattered by the riverbank. He rises just as immediately, with three small goblets in hand, a look of triumph in his face.

“I may not know the full details of your predicament with the stranger, but I insist that you at least share a drink with us. What do you think, Achilles?” Patroclus asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Please join us for a drink, my lord,” Achilles agrees, already uncorking the bottle Thanatos has given them.

“I'm afraid my duties do not permit me to linger for as long as I like.” A frown. A moment of hesitation. A decision. “But I can spare a few more moments, yes.”

Achilles beams and Patroclus smiles, gesturing to the cobbled space under his feet.

Thanatos understands and allows his soles to touch the ground — it is warm and rough against his skin, but not unpleasant. The three of them fumbled for a while, the two shades caught between acting formal and friendly around Death Incarnate himself, and Thanatos uncertain about his actions as well. Once the ambrosia is poured and toasts have been made, however, they settle into companionable silence, the liquid sweet and heavy on their tongues.

Not long after, Zagreus comes bounding towards them, pleasantly surprised and elated at the unexpected gathering that welcomed him. The pastures of Elysium have never looked lovelier.

As the prince and Patroclus exchange stories about their dogs, Achilles turns to Thanatos. “I am glad you found your answer.”

“I couldn't have done it without your help,” Thanatos says, meaning every word.

Achilles raises his goblet. “To you and the lad's future, then.”

“And to you and Patroclus' eternal happiness,” Thanatos replies, clinking their drinks. Somewhere, a soul pulls at the depths of his consciousness, waiting for his arrival. Before him, Zagreus and Patroclus have changed the topic of their conversation from pets to onions. Thanatos throws back the liquor and allows himself a few more moments to stay. He smiles in contentment, tipsy with the taste of ambrosia in his mouth and the sight of serenity laid before his eyes.

He is happy.


End file.
